In our last issue, in the bio of the opinion “Take the world to Chili’s,” I was surprised to see that the writer, Jason Dubois, listed “writing love letters” as one of his hobbies. I’ll admit, it left me perplexed. Does he
write to his significant other? His Love interests? If so, how many Love interests does he haveand how often does he write them? Are they for family,
friends, Loved ones? Are they for himself?
But before we break that down, let’s talk about what Love is.
ChatGPT says that Love “typically involves a combination of affection, respect, care, trust, commitment, and empathy,” concluding that “Love is
something that everyone experiences and defines in their own way, making it one of the most universally human yet individually experienced emotions.”
My good friend Austin, a
former linguistics major, capitalizes the word “Love,” and in college he was always marked down for it. When
asked why, he said, “Man, because it’s that important.”
Even in text he makes it a point. Especially when saying “I Love You,” he makes sure to capitalize the “Y” as well — one of the
ways he defines Love.
“You can encode culture into language this way,” he said. “Having a lower case ‘i’ denotes submission, or at least non aggression; The capital ‘L’ on ‘Love’ makes it stand out; Capitalizing the ‘Y’ in ‘You’ shows a perception of
grandiosity from the speaker to listener.”
Now, with this being my final editorial, I’d like to write a
love letter of my own. Let’s
hope it doesn’t get too cheesy.
Dear Love,
There are days when I know who you are, and there are
days where you are nowhere
to be found. I’m not sure what you are or where to find you, but I know you’re there. Whether
it’s on the track, in the newsroom, or in the cornfields of home.
I feel you in the people I
meet and the stories I read. I feel you on pen and paper, with
my family and in music. In
those moments I can feel you in it all.
Although it’ll be felt, I’ve
found it hard to see you lately. Sitting here writing this, I’m worried about loans, a future career, fighting confusion and heartbreak. I can’t help but
feel that the Love isn’t here and I question it. So where are you, Love?
For now, though, I can count
on seeing you in the small moments. Like on the sleep-deprived walks in the early morning, with the black cart following behind carrying a
stack of papers donning “The Record.”
And I know I’ll find
you in the living room of 411 where my friends laugh and
accept me. You’re presence in the culture that is Goshen College thrives
in those small moments and I
Love that I have been lucky enough to experience it.
If I could sum up what Love means to me, it’d be in this song from one of my favorite movies: “Anyone Else But You” from “Juno”. I won’t explain why — I’ll let you decide.
I can’t give an answer as
to what Love is, but I can only hope that whatever Love you find will always be enough. And I hope you can still look back and see that it’s here.
Thank you, I Love You,
Charlie
I hope that suffices, Jason.